


all the lonely nights in your life

by a_workinprogress



Series: i'm so sorry about this mr badboyhalo [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_workinprogress/pseuds/a_workinprogress
Summary: "Stay on the phone with me."(aka me projecting onto a minecraft man. feel free to project as well as read)
Relationships: Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch, not explicit but you can interpret it like that!
Series: i'm so sorry about this mr badboyhalo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156031
Comments: 9
Kudos: 126





	all the lonely nights in your life

**Author's Note:**

> recommended listening:  
> all the lonely nights in your life - american pleasure club  
> the only thing - sufjan stevens  
> nothing can't hurt me - roar 
> 
> (please listen to all the lonely nights in your life and nothing can't hurt me. they're so incredibly sad)

Bad sighed. The gun was all the way on the table while he was on the hotel bed. He thought about it and decided that if he didn’t have the energy to keep living, he certainly didn’t have the energy the get off the bed. 

The room was only booked for the night. Enough time for him to get his bearings and finally do something. As much as the cleaners wouldn’t appreciate the blood he knew he’d rather make the mess here than in his home. It was a more private space, yes, but it wasn’t a space he wished to pollute with his own death. 

He considered reasons to do it, and reasons not to. He wouldn’t have to deal with anything anymore. Literally. Everything would be put into the hands of others, and shouldn’t he be allowed a bit of selfishness? He’d done his best. His entire life. Everything would be over and nothing would be able to stress him out, worry him, or bother him. 

On the second hand, Rat would miss him. Good point, brain. 

He knew Rat wasn’t the only one. His death would likely cause quite a stir in the MCYT community. He was after all the one who brought most of them together, and was friends with the majority of the bigger ones. Maybe they’d post inspirational montages or something. Maybe they’d talk about the importance of mental health. Maybe it’d help others, and save people. Maybe he’d be selfish if he didn’t do it, simply for that reason. He was already so incredibly undeserving of the love he got as a person. After this, they might be able to focus on people who actually need it. 

Rat was already taken care of during his “trip”. Someone would take care of her. It wasn’t a problem. She’d be loved, and how hard could it be to forget him? 

The gun was on the table. He was on the bed. 

Bed, table. Him, gun. No tears ran down his face. He felt numb. 

Maybe it was time. 

The phone rang. 

He picked up the phone from its resting place next to him. Skeppy was calling him in the middle of the night. Not unusual, but not a good time. He thought about just letting it ring until he gave up, but decided to decline the call in order to let his music resume. 

Another call interrupted him and he declined it immediately. 

03:54 

  * **_HEY_**
  * I KNWO UR AWAKE 



03:55 

  * **_U WERE JUST ON TWITTER_**


  * SO ANSEWR THE PHONE 



Another call. He let it ring for a few seconds before answering. 

“Hey Skeppy, now’s not-” He started, before promptly being cut off. 

“Bad! I’ve been trying to reach you forever! Your phone was off and you weren’t responding anywhere.” The tone conveyed that he was uncharacteristically concerned. Skeppy knew he had a tendency to just go offline and unreachable at times. 

“Oh? I didn’t mean to ignore you, sorry. Listen, now’s not a good time, Skeppy,” he tried again. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, apparently still worried. “Because you sound kinda off. You sound tired.” 

“I’m fine, just a bit tired. Like I said, now’s not a good time. I’m just gonna sleep now,” he explained, unsure if it was considered a lie. 

“Oh! You’re at home? In your bed?” he asked, surprised. 

“Well, I’m in _a_ bed. I’m in a hotel room.” 

“Why are you in a hotel? Why aren’t you at home?” he asked, clearly alarmed that he’d been correct about Bad not being home. 

“ _It doesn’t matter._ ” A firmer tone than previously. He didn’t know what Skeppy expected when he kept pushing. “I’ve told you that it isn’t a good time. Please drop it. We can talk later, okay?” he said, hoping that he’d leave it and him alone now. 

“...” 

“...Okay. Bye, Skeppy.” He moved his finger to end the call. 

“No! Please talk to me!” he quickly exclaimed. 

Was it worth it? Should he make sure that their last interaction was a good one? Yeah. He knew he was going to hurt the younger man, and the least he could do was make their last conversation good. He needed to make it clear to Skeppy that it wasn’t because of him. He needed to make sure he wasn’t going to blame himself. 

“Okay. What do you wanna talk about?” Bad said, looking out the window. 

The sky was dark. 

“First of all, are you okay?” Skeppy said. His voice not shaking, but clearly affected by the situation he was in. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Bad. Please. Please don’t lie to me.” 

“I’m-” 

“ _Bad._ Don’t lie to me. Please. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?” Skeppy’s voice was higher than usual. He sounded tense. Bad could imagine him standing frozen in the middle of a room where he’d been pacing, waiting and hoping and _begging_ for Bad to pick up the phone. 

“...” 

Bad’s eyes fell upon the gun. A shiver ran through his body and he closed his eyes. 

“Skeppy, I’m-” he began, but was interrupted by his throat closing up. His words came to a stop and he felt the tears finally start to well up.

  
“I’m here, Bad. I’m here. Breathe. You’re doing good,” he said, voice soft. 

“Skeppy- Skeppy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated, tears trailing down his cheeks and onto the bed. He curled up into a ball, holding the phone close, as if it were the last thing keeping him grounded, keeping him from falling straight up into the vast void of the sky. 

“I care about you.” 

“You shouldn’t.” 

Bad’s voice was broken. The words tumbled out of him like the tears that ran down his face. Like the pain. 

Like blood. 

...

Bad’s fingers were tightly clenched around the phone. His eyes were closed and he tried not to think. 

When Skeppy responded, his voice was softer than it had ever been before. It was full of sadness and guilt and so many other things neither of them were sure of. 

“Bad, I love you.” 

Bad blinked. 

“You have bad taste,” he weakly joked. 

“ _Bad._ ” 

“I’m sorry. I love you too.” 

And it was true. Skeppy had always been there for him. He’d known what to say every time Bad had felt terrible in every sense of the word. 

Skeppy spoke again. “You know what? Wherever you are, I’ll be there as soon as possible if you want me to.” 

“Wait, what? It’s really far! That’s a lot to ask of you. You do get why that’s a lot to ask of you, right?” Bad responded.

“Don’t worry about it. Send me the address and stay on the phone with me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this when i was uhh. very depressed. so, today. haha. i am very sad and write to cope. POGCHAMP 
> 
> i love u all a lot. take care 
> 
> publishing today, feeling better!! feel free to request stuff uwu 
> 
> (probs gonna make this a series and write another vent fic about self-harm, so uh. if ur interested in that. uh. tell me what you'd like to see??)


End file.
